Just outside Beatty, Nevada. It’s completely devoid of any light out here at night:
The following morning, Hal and I reluctantly loaded up the truck and trailer, and headed down the main street of Beatty. All week, I’d watched people going through town, or pulling out of the RV park on their way to somewhere else. Now, we were heading out, too.
We turned east, and drove into the parking lot of Mel’s Diner, a place we’d come to enjoy during the last trip here, for breakfast. It was made of good food, and local conversation. We ate our breakfast, then got back into the Xterra for the long drive home. As I leaned back in the seat, watching Beatty recede in the rearview mirror, I imagined the diner, our table being cleared, ready for the next people to come in. A swirl of dust, and we were gone, as if we’d never been there. Much like life, I suppose.
The road opened out, and I reveled in the feeling of the wide-open space that fascinates me every time we travel here. I was looking out the window at snow-covered peaks, just visible up over the lower, closer mountains.
It made me want to be on the road all the time, the same longing I always have, a longing few people understand. These vacations are too short, and there are so many places I want to see, and be. But then I think of my sewing machine at home, sitting idle for four days (!), waiting for me to come home and create something. And, most of all, Desmond, also waiting for me to come home. I am always torn, it seems.
In the truck, I amused myself by noting the interesting “stuff” I saw being carried by the big trucks. The list included:
• railroad car wheels/axles;
• big machinery, possibly for use in building the future Interstate 11, or maybe just “building the future;”
• a giant powerboat being carried away from Lake Mead. (Why? I wondered. Where was it going next?)
A stop in Kingman for gas and coffee, and then another stop in Wickenburg for more coffee, and the next thing I knew, I was home.
The trip went by way too quickly. The allure of this trip, much like the ones to the White Mountains, is to be on the dirt bikes, exploring, getting into rough stuff, having adventures, and discovering new and beautiful places that are in areas that most people do not get to see and experience.
As I was putting clothes and gear away or into the washer at home, I wondered when will I get to go back to Death Valley?? And, for that matter, how will I see all the places that I want to discover before time runs out?
Only time will tell.